James watched the stranger, a girl barely older than him. She sat perfectly still on a rock with her legs crossed. Her rain-soaked blond hair hung loose around her tan face. A wicked-looking blade was strapped across her back. James thought it looked far too big for anyone to be able to wield. She slowly shifted its weight as though it weighed nothing, her coat pulled tight against the cold. Her white eyes traced James's steps with a tilt of her head.

  Yesterday had been brutal. There had been more attacks, more bodies and more blood. Each was another weight, another burden pressing him deeper into the ground. His arms ached, his legs screamed, and there was a dull pain in his ribs with every breath, reminding him how close he had come to dying. And yet, he was still here. Still moving forward.

  The coat and cloak that once protected him were nothing but ribbons, fluttering weakly behind him in the storm. Silver scars traced across his chest and arms, each a wound that should've slowed him down or stopped him but hadn't. His grip tightened around the sword at his hip, the weight unfamiliar, wrong even. He missed his blade. This one had been stolen off a corpse, not even three miles back.

  The woman tilted her head to the other side, jumping down from her perch. Her blank eyes were watching him. James straightened his back, trying to keep the water and hair from his eyes. To keep an eye on her as she circled.

  "You know," she mused. Her voice was light, nearly playful, as if they weren't about to kill each other. "I bet the others you'd have given up by now."

  James didn't answer. There were no words left. He simply nodded; they had all been the same. Quips and banter, anything to slow him down or to capture him. They all ended the same over the last day, another body and more wasted time. His fingers cramped around the hilt, his body swaying slightly. He was too tired. The blade slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground and skidding down the wet stone path.

  She moved. James felt it before he saw the rush of displaced air, a shadow in the rain. Her hand slammed into his throat, lifting him off his feet. James clawed at her arm, fists pounding against it, but it was like raindrops against stone ground. Her grip was iron, unshakable.

  "Pathetic." Her voice was flat, the playfulness from her voice before vanishing. "I expected more from another god seed."

  Something twinkled in her eyes just before she threw him. The world blurred, then exploded into pain as his back struck the rock wall. The impact cracked the stone behind him. James' skull snapped forward, the taste of copper flooding his mouth. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. His body refused to move, and numbness shot down his legs.

  "Another god seed?" The words rasped out of him, spitting blood onto the stone. "Which one are you then?"

  "Thought younger boys could do this all day?" She smiled wickedly at him. Ignoring his questions.

  A memory sprang to life unbidden but insistent. Ser Edwin's voice was firm and steady.

  "Get up, boy."

  James sucked in a ragged breath, barely registering the rain against his face. As the bones in his back realigned.

  "Little seed." It slithered through him, warm and insistent, curling against the back of his mind. Like an invader, something he wished would just go away. "It is time."

  "Fuck you." James rasped, the words torn from him. He wasn't sure if he was screaming at the woman before him or the presence inside his head.

  The woman didn't flinch from the words. She just studied him, tilting his head slightly like one might observe a wounded animal.

  Is that pity or curiosity in her eyes?

  James tried to rise, but his arms trembled, his legs refused, and his body sagged back to the slick stone.

  Forgive me, Max, it looks like I won't make it after all…

  A beam of sunlight slit the rolling dark clouds just long enough to dance across a dark shape. Just ahead, barely visible through the rain. Stone walls, tall and imposing, its central tower stretching into the storm, hidden from the world. He was so close now. James pushed down the tiredness, maybe for the last time.

  "Little seed," the voice pressed again, urgent now. Desperate for his attention. It had always been calm and patient, but now. Now, it sounded afraid. "You will die here."

  James almost laughed.

  Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Max wouldn't have to know I failed Ser Edwin, that I failed him.

  The thought scared James more than anything. A burning in his gut roared to life.

  "Max is still alive, " the voice whispered. James' breath caught. The exhaustion, the ache in his bones, and the weight pressing against his ribs faded beneath those thoughts. He pushed himself up, raising his fists.

  Alive.

  He swayed on his feet, his vision blurred with rain and blood. A cruel whisper of doubt slithered into his mind, hissing that this could be another trick, another lie spun by the voice clawing at the edges of his thoughts.

  "Tell me he's alive. Tell me how you know he's alive." His voice sounded strange to his ears, rough and ragged but strong.

  The woman's head snapped toward him, brow furrowing. She scanned the rocks and the path. Searching for someone, she slowly raised an eyebrow.

  "Your red-headed buddy?" she mused, lips curling into a smirk. He's alive. Him and the rest of the Imperium dogs."

  She stretched, rolling her shoulders, completely at ease, like a cat playing with its food. "They're needed for the summoning. Or at least that's what the buyer says."

  The words landed like a blow to the gut. James forced his shaking legs to hold him. Watching the woman with a too-large sword. Her arm rose to grab the hilt casually, that smirk only growing.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "Of course," she went on, lazily adjusting her grip on the massive sword, "it would be so much easier if they had the blood of a god seed."

  The woman moved. Like a pouncing cat, muscle, speed, and violence wound into a single motion.

  The massive sword unlocked from its sheath with a sound like splitting stone, dislodging from her back as if it had been waiting to strike. In a single fluid motion, the blade swung before James could blink.

  His mind screamed at his body: Move. Dodge. Roll. Lift your hands—do something. But he was so tired. His limbs felt like lead, and his feet were the heaviest they had ever been.

  Still, he rolled. One last time. His shoulder slammed against the jagged stone, the impact rattling through him as he came up crouched.

  "Tell me what you need," he growled.

  "Let me in," the sweet, coaxing voice curled around him. He felt something. Not quite hands, not quite real, gripped his shoulders, and a cool whisper pressed against his ear. "Submit yourself to me."

  The woman stuttered in her steps, her charge coming up short, her gaze narrowing in confusion.

  "Who the fuck are you talking to?" She spun, and with a shake of her head, the blade came cleaving through the rain, aiming straight for his head.

  Time seemed to fracture.

  James saw every droplet of rain slow to a near stop, seemingly suspended in the air. They shimmered silver as they struck the blade's surface and rolled off in slow, twisting patterns. James tried to move, but his body was locked, frozen with the rest of the world.

  "But I don't trust you," he whispered.

  "Do you trust the sun? The stars? The sky to stay above? The ground to hold you?" There was laughter in the voice now, something vast, something terrifyingly old. A shape moved in the unmoving rain, half-there, half-not, a woman of mist and moonlight, her edges shifting like ripples on a lake.

  "I am like these things," she murmured, drawing closer. "Too long did I sleep. Too long did my siblings forget me. But you, little seed, you can make me whole again."

  James could feel her now. Feel her breath on his neck and her fingers along his jaw.

  "I can give you what you need," she whispered. "The power to save Max. The power to survive."

  The blade inched closer.

  His pulse thundered in his ears.

  "But what will it cost?" His voice trembled. Fear clawed at his chest. "I have lost so much already."

  "A part of you, a small part, for now." The whisper said, and James felt her gaze settle on him, truly settle. It was like she was staring into him, through him, assessing the weight of what was left. "A mere piece of your body. Your soul."

  There was something like sympathy in her endless, star-filled eyes. Her finger traced the line of his jaw.

  "You will become my vessel. My anchor in this world." The blade was nearly at his throat. Each second stretched out, heartbeats lasting for minutes. Each raindrop is a lifetime in falling.

  "Fuck you. I could have saved him." Pain exploded in his chest, raw and open like a wound ripped apart. Tears burned his eyes. "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you."

  James reached down inside himself to the place where the power was, the door to her and her power. He didn't just open the door; he ripped it out, frame, hinges, and all.

  The power roared and tore something away. A part of him. He saw it go, a wisps of smoke curling like embers from wood just before it caught fire.

  As he now knew her name, the specter of the Sister inhaled it. Devoured it. A piece of his soul. And she changed.

  Her form solidified, becoming more tangible. More real. The hair became like spun moonlight, the skin fine porcelain, the gown of the sheerest silk. Like a tear in reality itself, she stepped through.

  Then the power came—burning, consuming—like skin exposed to the sun too long or eyes exposed to light after being in the dark for too long. Every inch of his body ignited. His nerves blazed, white-hot like the wind was ripping through his veins.

  Memories flooded him—

  —A golden apple, a painful fall.

  —A knife plunging into his chest.

  —Eyes, pained and sorrowful.

  —Whispers—of stopping her. Of protecting him.

  "I guess it's time we talk about the Orchard—James, I need to tell you something—" James' world shattered.

  The Sister laughed—a deep, throaty sound, brighter and more full of life than before. Unlike anything James had ever known, pain burned away the exhaustion, the ache in his bones, and the weight of it all.

  And as the world snapped back into motion, she vanished—but her words lingered.

  "Finally, I am free."

  The woman's blade froze, mid-swing as a look of shock crossed her face.

  "What the fuck happened to your eyes?"

  Hesitation spells death. James moved. His fist shot forward faster than he thought possible, slamming into the woman's chest with the force of a battering ram. He heard the sharp rush of air forced from her lungs as her body lifted, weightless for a breathless moment before she crashed into a boulder with a thunderous crack. Splitting the stone nearly in two.

  But he didn't stop.

  James was on her in two strides, his hand shooting down to grab her before she could recover. She batted his hand away, those milky white eyes locking onto his, searching. Then, she swung her blade wide, a desperate, sweeping arc meant to carve space between them.

  James stepped inside the strike, catching her wrist mid-swing. He drove his fist into her fingers, once, twice, again. Her grip loosened. She snarled, bringing her knees to her chest before kicking out hard, her boot slamming into his ribs. The force sent him stumbling back, feet skidding on the wet stone.

  "How the fuck—" she coughed, eyes searching his face, before she grinned. "You took the deal."

  James didn't answer. He just raised his fists, settling into a defensive stance.

  She came at him fast, her sword carving through the rain in brutal, arching swings. Left. Right. Each strike was broad and heavy, meant to force him off balance. James tried to slip inside her guard, like before, but every time he did, she was ready. A headbutt. A knee. A sharp jab. He barely dodged in time, but he wasn't fast enough forever.

  A glancing blow caught his shoulder. Pain lanced through his body as steel bit into flesh and bone. He gasped, jerking back before the blade could take his arm clean off. The warm, thick blood mixed with the rain, sliding down his arm in slow rivulets as the wound sealed.

  James barely had a moment to register the sensation before exhaustion washed over him like a crashing wave. His muscles ached, his body already demanding something to feed the healing.

  "You still have to pay for it, you know." She laughed, wiping blood from her mouth. "It'll eat at you. Tear you apart while it stitches you back together." She pointed at her own eyes with a small, knowing smile. "The power, that is."

  They both stood hunched over, their breath coming in ragged gasps, their bodies swaying with the effort to stay upright.

  "Trust me, I know from experience." She winked at him. Then she moved.

  James barely had time to react before her boot connected with his knee, a sharp, brutal kick. A sickening pop echoed in his ears, and the leg buckled, sending him crashing.

  But he didn't fall alone.

  James grabbed her arm, dragging her down with him. He twisted a sharp jerk and was rewarded with the satisfying crack of bone. She screamed, her sword slipping from her fingers. James kicked it away, sending it spinning over the path's edge, disappearing into the mist below.

  "Fuck." Her breath was ragged and wild, with a spark in her eyes.

  She rolled, pinning him beneath her before he could move, her fist rocketing toward his face.

  James caught her arm, twisting them both. Mud and blood slicked their movements as they struggled, rolling over the wet stone, each fighting for control.

  Then she got a knee up.

  Pain exploded through his gut, and he gasped, his grip faltering. In an instant, she flipped them, landing astride him, straddling his waist, rubbing at her wrist as the bones realigned, shifting back into place with a wet crack.

  With fists full of his shirt, She slammed him down hard. His back smacked against the mud and rock, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.

  He barely sucked in half a gasp before she grabbed his wrist and pinned it above his head.

  "Got you." She whispered in his ear.

  James struggled, but she was stronger. Her free hand moved over his face, fingers brushing against his skin, tracing the scar from temple to chin.

  James' breath hitched.

  Something stirred in him, something raw and unfamiliar. He bucked, twisting hard, flipping her beneath him. His hands found her shoulders, shoving her down as her head smacked against the stone.

  And she laughed.

  A warm, musical sound.

  Then she surged up and bit his ear.

  Pain shot down his spine, sharp and electric, sending heat pooling in his stomach. Before he could react, she hooked her legs around his waist, and the world spun.

  James hit the ground face-up, rain pelting his skin as she moved like a shadow, her body a blur of speed and precision.

  She straddled his hips, her knees digging into his sides.

  His wrists were pinned again, her grip like iron.

  Then she leaned in, hair slick with rain and mud, her breath warm against his lips.

  "Got you again." The devious sparkle in her eyes didn't give him any warning,

  She kissed him.

  The kiss was deep and hungry, yet her lips were soft. Her fingers gripped his wrists tighter as she took what she wanted. A sweet, spicy scent curled around him, tickling his nose. His heart pounded.

  James leaned into the kiss, his confusion replaced by desire. He had never felt this way; the heat of the battle was different from the heat of kissing.

  Then, just as suddenly as it started, she pulled away. And James wanted more. A stupid smile pulled at his lips.

  She stood in one fluid motion, boots clicking against the stone, brushing the mud from her coat. James lay there, chest heaving, rain dripping from every inch of him. He propped himself up on his elbows, the mud making a wet, sucking sound.

  She turned to leave, a sway in her step that hadn't been there before. Leaning over the edge, her sword glided back to her hand, and she glanced back over her shoulder with a wicked grin. James licked his lips, aware of the lingering taste of spice.

  "Don't die so we can do this again, okay?" She winked. "I don't make a habit of breaking a deal."

  Then she was gone, vanishing into the storm like she had never been there at all. James collapsed back into the mud, chest still rising and falling in short, shaking bursts. Despite everything, despite the exhaustion, the pain, the raw ache in his chest—

  James started laughing. A desperate shaking sound.

  "And I didn't even get her name."